


Pasta

by questionmark007



Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: friendship fic!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionmark007/pseuds/questionmark007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameron tries to subtly thank Fisher for saving his life. It backfires, but really, who's surprised?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pasta

**Author's Note:**

> I need Fisher & Cameron to be friends in season 2. I also need Cameron to try and subtly thak Fisher for saving his life. But season 2 is too far away, so I just figured I’d write it myself...

“Why am I here?” Fisher asked, looking around Cameron’s vacant apartment.

“I told you: we were going to have a team dinner to discuss the case, but everyone else canceled last minute.” Cameron said in a monotone, trying not to look the detective in the eye.

“If everyone canceled, then why am I here?” Fisher repeated. “Us discussing the case won’t do anything.”

“I was already cooking. It’s too much for me to eat alone, so that’s where you come in.” Cameron shrugged. “But if you want, you can turn on the TV. There’s probably a game of something on…”

“You know, we can really reschedule this for—“ Fisher stood, clearly about to leave.

“I made Oreo ice cream for dessert,” Cameron cut him off.

“So where’s the remote for the TV?”

Cameron pointed to the coffee table, trying to hide his grin. He couldn’t believe his plan was actually working. Ever since he’d found out that Fisher had saved him in the restaurant with Barbiero, he’d wanted to do something to thank the detective. Except that then Cameron ‘died’ and spent some time in a coma and long story short, it’s been three months since they’ve both been back at work and Cameron had decided that Fisher saving his life had gone unthanked for long enough. And as big as a foodie as Cameron was, he figured the best way to thank Fisher was through his stomach. Of course, he knew that he and Fisher weren’t technically ‘friends’ yet, so getting the detective to his apartment for dinner was no easy feat, hence the lie of the team coming over and canceling. He hadn’t told anyone about this plan except for Kirsten, who he’d gone to for help, for fear they’d make fun of him.

Fisher wandered over to the living room, flipping the TV on and quickly found a football game.

“This is a nice TV.” Fisher commented, flopping back onto the couch.

“Thanks! It’s 4k LED. Top of the line.” Cameron turned off the stove, moving the pot to the sink to drain it. “Do you want a beer, buddy?”

“…sure,” Fisher stood and went to the fridge to check the options. “So what’re you making?”

“A fresh tomato, sausage and pecorino pasta.” Cameron muttered.

“Pasta? Really? We’re having pasta and beer?” Fisher looked at him, twisting the top off his beer. “Is that what’s going on here?”

“I wanted to thank you, okay!” Cameron blurted.

“You saved my life in the restaurant and I wanted to say thank you, without having to, you know, actually say thank you.” He looked back at the vegetable sauté and stirred it vigorously.

“So you decided you were going to lie to me and cook me dinner instead?” Fisher asked slowly.

“Not the best plan, I realize, but it’s not like I have a lot of people to go for help apologizing.” Cameron ducked his head, remembering that this meal was actually Kirsten’s idea because apparently Camille had done it once and it worked for them right? “And I just figured it’d go over better if I didn’t try to make a big deal out of it…”

Fisher sighed: “I didn’t save you because I wanted to hear your thanks”

“I know but—“

“I also didn’t save you so you could go and literally get yourself killed _on purpose_ hours later.” Fisher set his beer on the counter and gave Cameron a serious look. “I know you think I don't like you, but that’s not true. You were willing to die to protect your team. But please don’t make a habit of it. You’re too important to the team to permanently die.”

Cameron stood speechless, staring at Fisher for a long moment before stuttering: “Really? Okay, so are we like _friends_ now?”

Fisher gave him a skeptical look: “Maybe. But we’re definitely not at whatever level this is yet,” he gestured between them, “and if you mention this conversation to anyone, you won’t like the results. So can we go back to drinking beer and watching football?”

“Yup, absolutely!” Cameron nodded enthusiastically. “But one question: If we’re friends now, does that mean I can call you Quincy?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay, fair enough. We’ll work on it.” Cameron shrugged nervously, turning back around to continue working on dinner. Fisher picked his beer back up and returned to the couch, where Cameron joined him a few minutes later with the food. Cameron couldn’t help but think how this had gone so much better than he’d originally thought it would. He’d figured his plan was going to backfire, and it did, but it ended up turning itself around in the end and now he knew that Fisher actually respected him and thought he was important to the team. That was probably the biggest compliment he’d ever been paid (aside from when Kirsten thanked him for not being a nobody, but that was totally different).

They were eating the Oreo ice cream Cameron had made (which Fisher seemed to really enjoy) and watching an old Western movie because the football game had ended when Fisher spoke up again, not taking his eyes off the TV:

“And Cameron, for the record, you’re welcome.”


End file.
